


If I Stumble They're Going to Eat Me Alive

by secondstar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondstar/pseuds/secondstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles seeks solace in Derek when he can't sleep: which is basically every night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Stumble They're Going to Eat Me Alive

The thing about sneaking out that his father didn’t understand was that Stiles felt like he needed to do it. He needed to get out of his room at two in the morning and go see Scott. He needed to ride his bike through the empty streets, to breathe the fresh, crisp air. He needed to climb into Scott’s window and spend the night with him, just talking. 

He needed it so that he wouldn’t go insane, living in his own mind. 

Nights were the worst for Stiles. At night was when his brain didn’t shut up, didn’t stop telling him over and over again about everything that was wrong with his life. Insecurities couldn’t be pushed aside at midnight, or one. Thoughts tumbled around, defenses down with no one to talk to. Sure, Adderall and school work helped. Tapping endlessly against his desk as he researched whatever bullshit paper he had to write. Research kept the voices at bay that reminded him that he wasn’t first line, that his mother was gone, that he was single, and that he had already jacked off four times that day and he really didn’t need to watch more porn. 

Porn was a distraction, too. But there were only so many tissues that could be in his trash can before his dad gave him looks, so research it was. Sometimes Stiles would just spend hours upon hours on wikipedia. The thing about Adderall that people didn’t understand was yes, it helped him concentrate but it depended on what he was doing when the medicine kicked in... because he would be doing what ever he was doing for the next five plus hours. 

One time he popped two Adderall because he really fucking needed to concentrate on writing a paper on The Grapes of Wrath aka the most boring Dust Bowl book known to man but when his medication kicked in he was straightening up his room so then he just had to keep fucking cleaning so he cleaned the entire house, even scrubbed the bathroom clean because there was no stopping him. 

His dad noticed, but said nothing.

The thing about the Sheriff was that he tended to be lenient about some things, but strict on others. For instance, Stiles could pop two Adderall, which was double what he was supposed to, and be fine but if he was caught coming in at sunrise from being at Scott’s he was grounded. If he got a B, grounded. If he mouthed off, well. The Sheriff let that slide because sometimes Stiles just had to say what was on his mind. 

Everyone always assumed that Stiles said everything that was on his mind but in reality Stiles held back almost everything, keeping it to himself. No one wanted to hear what he really thought, he knew. They didn’t want to hear about how he had to put his father to bed because he had drank too much and was crying about his mother, or how he had broke down in the shower because he missed her so fucking much, or how seeing his best friend fall for a girl and leave him hanging messed with his head. 

Now, when Stiles needed to get out of his room at two in the morning he couldn’t go to Scott’s. Well, he did, twice. The first time he showed up and Scott wasn’t there, he waited. He fell asleep on Scott’s bed, waiting for him. The second time, he left. Scott had Allison and Stiles was alone. He didn’t have anyone to keep his mind at bay. 

He tried to sleep, which was hard. Sleeping took hours to get to. First, he had to hope that he hadn’t popped anything too late in the day. Second, he had to hope that his brain would just shut the fuck up long enough for sleep to take him. He slept at random hours. Mostly after lacrosse practice, and in the hours of four to seven in the morning. REM cycles were a myth, to Stiles. Except for on weekends when he slept in until three in the afternoon. The only way he got away with that was that his dad had the early morning shifts on the weekends. If he was home, there would be no way Stiles would get to sleep in past ten. 

And then there was Derek. 

Stiles knew that Derek thought he was a handful, and to be honest he was, he knew he was. But something about Derek told Stiles that he just had to keep talking. Talking to Derek, Stiles didn’t think about his problems. He didn’t think about the coffee he had, about how many bruises he had from lacrosse or people trying to kill them. Derek let him talk, barely saying anything but never pushing Stiles away. 

Slowly, Stiles started going to Derek’s at night instead of Scott’s. The first time it happened, Derek was standing outside with his arms crossed. 

“It’s late.” He had said with a scowl on his face. Stiles smiled, nodding as he shrugged his shoulders, acting like it wasn’t a big deal or anything, him showing up in his pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt. “Is something wrong?” Derek had asked him. Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged again, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. 

“Nah, nothing major. Can’t...sleep?” He said, suddenly realizing he had no right to show up here. “I don’t sleep, well. I sleep, but not a lot and really it is too early for me to go to bed because I took a pill and I shouldn’t have and I doubt I will be sleeping at all tonight to be honest because I wasn’t thinking but I took a shower and I was going to try to, like, fucking I don’t know...I was going to try to just lay in my bed but it just looked so unwelcoming because once the lights go out it is like I am being attacked by my own head and I just can’t take that tonight.” Stiles rattled off, his hands coming out of his pockets and rubbing against his head, raking across it forcefully as if trying to keep his thoughts in but they came out in a tumble without him meaning all of them to. He looked to Derek his eyes wide, ready for rejection. Derek frowned, which was nothing new, but then he nodded. Stiles stood for a moment, mouth gaping. He had really thought he would be pushed back to his jeep and told to go home. 

“I can’t sleep either.” Was Derek’s response. 

 

Now Stiles goes to Derek’s. Every night. 

He waits for his dad to turn off the hall light, makes sure he gets his school work done so he doesn’t get grounded. Actually, he makes sure he doesn’t do anything to make sure he isn’t grounded. Because sneaking out while being grounded? Means being grounded longer. It took him a long time to figure that one out but now he was amazing at figuring shit like that out. Like, if you are in trouble, don’t talk back because it will prolong punishment. 

Derek’s bed was comfortable, but maybe that was because Derek was in the bed with him. Sleeping alone was something Stiles didn’t like to do, despite never having a girlfriend. He didn’t even mean it in a sexual way, but he slept better when he was at Scott’s, and now at Derek’s. He liked the sound of another person’s breathing, of the feel of their body heat against him. He liked how in his sleep Derek always pulled Stiles close. The feel of the rise and fall of Derek’s chest lulled him to sleep within minutes. It quieted his mind so much that he craved it. He craved Derek’s bed, Derek’s voice who told him to shut up, he craved Derek telling him it is alright if he spends the night. 

He needed Derek. 

The pack noticed. Of course they fucking noticed. Stiles smelled like Derek, afterall. Scott called him out on it and all Stiles could say was that they were just friends, just like he and Scott were. But Stiles knew he was lying to himself. Scott even knew he was lying, and Scott was a dumbass. 

Stiles didn’t want Derek to know, though. He didn’t want to be rejected by him. Why would Derek like him? A scrawny, talkative, insecure teenager who was a pill popper. The voice in Stiles’ head told him that Derek just didn’t know how to tell him to stop coming over, that he hated being crowded and that Stiles should just stop bothering him. 

So he did. 

He stopped going to Derek’s at night. He dealt with his demons alone. He slept less, popped more Adderall and wrote an essay two times longer than it needed to be because he was so wired that he had nothing else to do at four in the fucking morning. After three nights, Derek showed up at Stiles’ window at barely past eleven. Stiles looked to the hallway, seeing that the light under his door was still on. He put a finger up to his lips, letting Derek know to be quiet. 

Derek clenched his jaw, clearly angry with Stiles. Stiles mouthed ‘what?’ to him, hoping he would continue in this fashion. Derek rolled his eyes. 

“I am not playing that game.” He said, his voice monotone. Stiles flailed his arms around, pressing an ear to his door, hoping not to hear footsteps. “Stiles-”

“Shhhhh!” He hissed. Derek’s shoulders sagged, as if defeated. Stiles’ cock jerked in his pants, the thought of Derek doing as he asked. Shit. 

Can’t werewolves smell-

“Stiles...” Derek said, sighing. “We really need to talk.” Stiles gulped, not liking the sound of it. 

“Or not, or you can just, like, go back home and I will stay up until the sun comes up and then get an hour of sleep before school like normal.”

“That isn’t normal, Stiles.” Derek whispered. Stiles laughed, nodding. He knew that, of course he knew that. He wasn’t normal. “Why did you stop coming over?” Derek asked, which surprised Stiles. He shook his head at Derek as if he didn’t know the reason. “Come on-”

“Because I know how annoying I am, okay?” Stiles let out with a huff. “Why deal with me rambling at you? Right?” He said, tossing himself onto his bed. Derek didn’t hesitate when he sat next to where Stiles flung himself. 

“I don’t deal with you. There is nothing to deal with.” Stiles snorted. He knew exactly what Derek had to deal with. “Hey, are you listening to me?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head no, which got him a shove, rolling him over onto his back. Stiles’ heart beat skyrocketed because Derek had his hands on either side of his face as he looked down at him. 

Suddenly, his mind quieted. He sighed, closing his eyes at the silence. 

“Want to know why I didn’t kick you out?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, opening his eyes. “Because you keep me out of my own head.” He admitted. Stiles’ eyes widened. “You aren’t the only one who can’t sleep.” 

Stiles pushed himself up on his elbows, pressing his lips against Derek’s. At first, Derek didn’t respond, which scared Stiles. It scared him because he had put himself out there, and his head was so quiet and he just didn’t know what to do but he felt like it was right, that he needed to do it. 

And then Derek opened his mouth, his tongue finding Stiles’. Stiles moaned as Derek deepened the kiss, breathing it in. Derek wanted him, was kissing him. 

Stiles reached up, pulling at Derek’s shirt, his hands not stopping there, roaming over his chest, slipping beneath the fabric. Derek growled deep in his throat, pressing their bodies together as they continued kissing. 

The next night, Stiles made sure to go to Derek’s. Making out quieted any threats his mind seemed to think up, Derek’s mouth on his skin made him shiver, made him happy. 

Stiles didn’t think he ever knew that he could be so content before Derek got ahold of him. With Derek everything was fluid, everything seemed so easy. 

Stiles stopped taking that extra Adderall. He took one in the morning, sure, because no one wanted him running around the school screaming his head off all day, but just that one. He went to school, he went to lacrosse, he did his homework. 

And then he saw Derek. 

Derek liked to take his time with Stiles. He liked stripping him down, he liked slowly licking his skin, marking it, nipping it, then caressing it with his tongue. He liked spreading Stiles wide with his fingers, fucking him open enough to fit his cock. Stiles liked it, the mind-numbing feel of all of it. He liked how he never thought, not once, when Derek’s mouth was on him. 

Or when his mouth was on Derek’s. 

Stiles liked blowing Derek. He liked opening his mouth for him, he liked licking up his shaft, he liked smelling him, he liked the way Derek cradled his head as he fucked his face. He wanted more, each time they were together. 

His heart raced, his chest heaved whenever they were together. Sitting up, legs crossed, Derek held Stiles in his lap with Stiles’ legs wrapped around his waist. Stiles panted against Derek’s chest, his fingers raking down Derek’s back as they fucked, as Derek gripped his ass tight. Stiles moaned Derek’s name over and over as Derek fucked him raw. 

His body numb, tingling, Stiles curled against Derek when they finished, their fingers intertwining, eyes closing as they lay in silence. Silence not only in the room, but in their heads. Sleep came easily, then. Sleep wouldn’t elude them any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I am beginning to work on my head!canon Stiles more in this (my second TW fic), which started out as just a character study for me, writing about how I see him. It isn't perfect, a little disjointed but I am trying to "find" them, still. 
> 
> Unbeta'd as of right now. Please let me know of any mistakes! I will fix them ASAP! :)


End file.
